


Because You Got Me A Waterbed

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Humor, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-09-22
Updated: 2002-09-22
Packaged: 2018-11-20 12:15:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11335455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Morris Fletcher finds out that life as Fox Mulder isn't all it's cracked up to be and Alex gets to have some fun.





	Because You Got Me A Waterbed

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

Because You Got Me A Waterbed

## Because You Got Me A Waterbed

#### by Sagittarius325

Title: Because You Got Me A Waterbed - Part One 

Author: Sagittarius 

Email: 

Part: 1 of 2 

Season: Six 

Spoilers: Dreamland I and II 

Rating: NC-17 

Pairing: Krycek/Morris Fletcher/Mulder...um sort of. You'll see :) 

Warnings: Graphic m/m interaction and coerced sex. If these subjects offend you, if you are underage or the laws of your country prohibit you from reading such material, then go no further. 

Summary: Morris Fletcher finds out that life as Fox Mulder isn't all it's cracked up to be and Alex gets to have some fun. 

Disclaimer: The characters Fox Mulder, Alex Krycek, Morris Fletcher etc are the properties of CC and other fortunate people. No infringement is intended. 

Author's Notes: This is a slashy but hopefully fun take on the season six episode Dreamland, with a few added twists. Enjoy. 

* * *

**PART ONE**

Morris Fletcher, husband, father and current inhabitant of the body of one Fox Mulder, entered the dingy apartment, tugging wearily at his tie. Ye gods what a night, he thought, tiredly, sliding off his jacket to drape it over the nearest chair. First the pretty, little redhead had gotten her panties in a wad over that call from her partner - yeah like Morris was just jumping to meet the man whose body he'd stolen - then she'd gone all the way out to Nevada to make contact anyway. Great. 

It had left Morris with only one course of action and the call he'd put through to that toad Howard Grodin had done the trick. No more interference from the real Fox Mulder, Morris mused, somewhat smugly. What with the flight recorder they'd taken off him, the fibbie would be lucky if he ever saw the light of day again. 

Humming quietly, Morris entered the kitchen, and glanced around for the coffee, knowing he'd need the caffeine for work. And to make another play for that honey blonde who worked Kersh's desk. Boy, was she hot! The day before he'd gotten just a taste, before Dana had screwed things up. What was it with Red and this Mulder guy anyway? Two young, good-looking people and they hadn't slept together because of what...work ethics? 

Morris chuckled to himself as he opened the fridge, searching for the milk, then blinked in surprise when he realized it was all but empty. "What is this guy, a vampire?" he wondered aloud. "What does he do for food?" 

Resolving to grab something on his way to work, Morris left the kitchen and began searching for the bedroom. Nothing like sheets and a soft mattress to sooth away worries and guilt. 

"Working late Mulder?" 

The husky voice tore through Morris' thoughts of sleep, and he gasped, jerking around to face the shadowed figure sitting in the chair by the desk. Encased in darkness, the man smiled, the small, wry twist far from pleasant. "Though I guess it's not like you need your beauty sleep," he continued, still in that soft, silken tone. 

Morris stared at the man, wondering what the hell he was supposed to say to _that._ The stranger reached over to switch on the desk lamp, chasing away the shadows to reveal a young, finely sculpted face. Green eyes peered curiously, cat-like up at Morris, while the leather-clad body rested lazily in the chair. 

"What, no hello for me?" the man asked, almost impishly. 

"Hi," Morris offered, tentatively. "Uh, what are you doing here?" 

Apparently, this wasn't response expected, for the green-eyed man frowned. "I came to warn you to stay away from Nevada. There's some weird shit going on down there. They don't want you involved and I'd hate to see anything...bad happen to you." 

Was that a threat, Morris wondered, in alarm. Or genuine concern? He moved further into the room and was surprised when his visitor jumped to his feet to put the coffee table between them. He was certainly skittish, whoever he was. Probably another one of Agent Mulder's 'informants', though this one seemed a little crazy. 

"Hey, look," Morris said, holding out his hands to show he meant no harm. It was far too early in the morning to be dealing with some whacked out psycho. "You don't have to worry, ok? I'm not going back to Nevada. My boss has closed the case." 

"Kersh?" the man demanded. "Since when do you follow his orders? Or anyone's, for that matter?" 

"Well, since I want to keep my job," Morris replied, honestly enough. Why did everyone seem so shocked that this Mulder character would want to play by the rules? "I'm flying straight from hereon in." 

The stranger snorted, the sound more skeptical than amused. "I'm meant to believe that 'Spooky' Mulder is prepared to give up his crusade just because some asshole higher-up threatens to fire him?" 

"Believe what you want," Morris retorted, getting a little annoyed now. Who the hell was this guy? "It happens to be the truth." 

The stranger's eyes narrowed, suddenly shrewd. "And I'm supposed to believe you're giving up on the rat bastard who killed your father too, huh?" 

A murdered papa as well as a missing sister? No wonder Fox Mulder was such a messed up kid. Morris affected a heavy sigh and crossed to the fish tank, peering in at the little guys. "Well, I can only hope that one day he'll be caught and justice will be served." And you'll get out of my life sometime, anytime, soon, he added silently. 

There was a moment's stillness and Morris felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise when he realized he was being silently stalked. 

Right before an arm across his throat threw him forwards, face pressed painfully into the glass tank, giving him a close-up view of the multicolored fish. Morris put up a brief struggle and the arm squeezed harder, just enough to let him know the man before him could crush his windpipe like it was an overripe fruit. 

"You're not Mulder," the man spat, in his ear. 

"What?" Morris squeaked, airlessly. He had a brief moment to ponder on whether swapping his nightmare life had been such a good idea - even with a nagging wife and kids at least he'd still be alive! - before the arm was removed and his assailant had swung him round, roughly shoving him down onto the couch. 

Choking in air, Morris raised his watering eyes long enough to register the barrel of a gun pointed directly at his forehead. "Please...don't kill me," he gasped in panic. 

The man leaned closer, his green eyes black now, a grim, killer's smile playing over his lips. "You've got one chance," he said, solemnly. "Tell me where the real Mulder is." 

"I don't know!" Morris retorted, flailing for something that would appease. 

The click of the safety being flicked off was loud in the apartment and Morris flinched back, closing his eyes. 

"Wrong answer," the man informed him, coldly. 

"No! Wait!" Morris spoke up in sheer desperation, resisting the urge to grab the man and start crying like a baby as he pleaded for his life. "I am him. I mean, I'm in his body. If you kill me, there's no way to get him back." 

The man didn't so much as twitch as he regarded Morris like something he'd accidentally stepped in. "Uh huh." 

"The uh, the weird shit you were talking about?" Morris stumbled on. "It happened. To me. And to your friend Agent Mulder." 

Now the man did react, the smile turning bitter. "We're not exactly friends." 

"Then what the hell's the problem?" Morris demanded. "I'll keep him out of your life, you keep out of mine, what'd you say?" He offered the other a hopeful grin. 

The barrel that slid under his chin and forced his face up was as cold as the eyes of the man before him, yet the other didn't pull the trigger. Instead, he was regarding Morris thoughtfully now. 

"I say," the gun moved, sliding down Morris' throat to tease at the opening of his shirt. "I say we might have something to discuss." 

"What more do you want?" Morris pleaded. "You want me to get down on my knees here?" 

The man smirked. "Now there's an idea." 

Morris gulped as the gun moved lower, down over his chest to gently nudge at his crotch and he briefly closed his eyes. Now was not a good time to play dumb. "I think," he swallowed, "I get the picture." 

The man smiled, eyes lighting in anticipation. "Krycek," the man said, tapping the gun gently on Morris' nose. "Alex Krycek. And I'm very pleased to meet you." 

* * *

Alex slouched back on Mulder's couch, long legs splayed outwards while he took a sip of the beer. Never in his wildest fantasies would he have imagined himself here, in Mulder's apartment at five in the morning, drinking Mulder's beer and watching Mulder's body, so naturally sexy, undress. 

The other man, Morris he'd said his name was, was slowly stripping the shirt from Mulder's chest, fingers playing over Mulder's nipples, teasing them into peaks and Alex had to bite back his laugh. If only Mulder were here to witness this, then his life would be complete. 

Sick, Alex, he chided himself cheerfully. He took another long pull on the beer, before planting it on the coffee table and leaning back to watch the rest of the display. As Morris caressed the satiny skin of Mulder's stomach, Alex felt himself growing hard. Ok, so it wasn't Mulder doing the strip tease, he thought, but boy oh boy does he have a great body. 

He reached down to cup himself through his jeans, squeezing, taking his lower lip between his teeth to stifle a moan. 

"Going too fast for you, lover boy?" Morris teased, in Mulder's seductive tones. 

Fuck, how many times had Alex wanted to hear that voice directed at him, those incredible, changing eyes filled with lust and desire for the Consortium Agent. It's not him, a niggling voice at the back of his mind taunted, but Alex quashed it viciously. What the hell, he told himself. It's not like I'm ever going to tell Mulder I wanted him for his body and not his mind. 

"Come here," Alex ordered, roughly, and Morris moved forward to kneel between his legs. If only Mulder would be so obedient, he mused, feeling his cock leap at the sight of Mulder's full, parted lips. Oh yeah, he told it fondly, you don't care who it is as long as you get to try out that mouth of his. 

Morris unzipped Alex pants, then paused, raising his eyes to Krycek's. "You know, it's not like I do this for a living. I haven't given head since...," he gave a sheepish shrug, "well, we don't need to go there." 

Alex smiled and absently petted the hair. "That's alright," he told the man. "If you do badly, I'll just shoot you." 

Morris grimaced and reached in to take out Alex's cock, gently and carefully, running Mulder's long fingers up and down the shaft until it hardened satisfactorily. Morris glanced once more at Alex with Mulder's eyes, then, seeing no reprieve, bent his head and took it into Mulder's mouth. 

Hot, moist warmth instantly surrounded Alex's cock and he let out a throaty moan, throwing his head back into the leather of the couch. Who would have thought it, he wondered, distantly. Me being serviced by Fox Mulder's mouth. 

Morris began to suck in earnest, not at all shy. He's no novice, Alex realized, dimly. But who cared? As far as he knew, that mouth was undefiled territory, his dick the first one to breach its virgin embrace. And what a mouth! Just watching those lips slide up and down his slick shaft, Alex could almost imagine it was Mulder doing it in a way the assassin had only ever dreamed. 

He closed his eyes as Morris put Mulder's tongue to some good use, hissing through his teeth as it ran the entire length of his cock, then moved back up to start again. He was ready, he realized. More than ready. He'd been ready for the past five fucking years to come in Fox Mulder's pretty, pouting mouth. 

The man between his legs sensed his urgency and took Alex in deep, all the way to the back of his throat. The feel of Mulder's lips wrapped so expertly, so sweetly around the root of his shaft did the trick and Alex let out a hoarse shout and came, shooting down Mulder's throat. A second, weaker spurt followed that left him shaking and satiated, and he moaned when the mouth allowed him to slip out into the cool air of the apartment. 

"Was that ok?" 

Mulder's voice drew Alex back to his surroundings and he slitted his eyes open, staring at Morris, noting the fearful look Alex had never wanted nor expected to see on Mulder's face. He resisted the urge to reach out and reassure the other, telling himself the man who was inhabiting Mulder's body didn't deserve it. 

"Good," Alex grunted, instead, reaching down to zip himself up. He climbed to his feet and stared down at Mulder's naked torso, the lips that were even now shiny with semen and saliva. He wanted more of that, he realized, greedily. More of the body and the generous mouth, with Mulder on his knees at Alex's feet, looking up at him with such devotion, such adoration in those intelligent hazel eyes. 

"So, we've got a deal then?" 

Morris' desperation filled words shattered the illusion and Alex shook himself from his sappy thoughts. What the fuck was wrong with him? He'd wanted Mulder, had always wanted Mulder, and now he'd had him. It was just lust and he could satisfy that now whenever and wherever he wanted. 

So why did he feel so cheated? 

Still, Morris was waiting for an answer and it wouldn't do to scare the guy off, not now that he had something Alex wanted. He reached down to pat Mulder's face. "We've got a deal, Morris," he assured the man. "But next time we meet, I get to fuck the body." 

* * *

What the hell was that all about? Morris wondered, as he heard the door close quietly. I give the guy the best head of his life and now he wants to...no, I don't even want to go there. Not just yet. 

Though it wasn't like it had been all that unpleasant. The kid was good looking at least, all sex and leather and hell-bent, pent up frustration. And if Morris had met him in the early days, before the government, before Joanne...well, he'd have jumped him in a New York minute. 

He supposed that explained why the body he was wearing was sporting an impressive erection. Either its former inhabitant hadn't got any in years or it was just incredibly responsive. Still, it hadn't wanted to come out to play like this with the blonde from the FBI. 

Unzipping his trousers, Morris took a moment to examine his new and improved genitalia. "Not bad, Agent Mulder," he told himself with a mischievous grin. "Not bad at all. I'm going to have to try you out." Maybe the svelte Dana Scully could help out with that, he mused. Or maybe this Alex Krycek character was a switch. 

With that thought, he was reminded that he never had gotten round to finding the bedroom - which in turn brought him to another interesting question. Where the hell was the bathroom? 

**END OF PART ONE**

* * *

Title: Because You Got Me A Waterbed - Part Two 

Author: Sagittarius 

Email: 

Part: 2 of 2 

Season: Six 

Spoilers: Dreamland I and II 

Rating: NC-17 

Pairing: Mulder/Krycek 

Warnings: Graphic m/m interaction and coerced sex. If these subjects offend you, if you are underage or the laws of your country prohibit you from reading such material, then go no further. 

Summary: Time has snapped back for Mulder and Scully, but for some people things haven't quite returned to normal. 

Disclaimer: The characters Fox Mulder, Alex Krycek, Morris Fletcher etc are the properties of CC and other fortunate people. No infringement is intended. 

Author's Notes: Slut Mulder! Mmm, my favourite...:) 

* * *

**PART TWO**

Mulder entered his newly refurbished apartment, tiredly tossing his keys down onto the table and sliding off his tie. What a day, he mused, as he headed for the kitchen and the enticing smells that still lingered there. Not only had someone cleaned out his bedroom, tidied his apartment and stocked his cupboards with groceries, they'd cooked for him and left a bottle of champagne by the bedside. 

His first suspects had been the Lone Gunmen, but he'd dismissed the idea out of hand. The leopard skin and ceiling mirror were too tacky for even Frohike's tastes. That and the set of handcuffs that dangled from the headboard firmly convinced him it was someone who was either making a point about his sex life - or lack thereof - or he'd found himself a genuine, bona fide stalker. 

Still, after checking for the usual bugs and cameras, it wasn't like the waterbed and mood lighting was actually a bad thing. And watching himself in the mirror above had been a little...kinky. 

Mulder's third suspect, the second being the Consortium playing some kind of weird mind-warp game, was Kersh's assistant, whatever the hell her name was. At lunch, she'd waylaid him, inviting him over to her place for a 'little more of what she'd got before', confusing the hell out of him. As far as he knew, he'd hardly spoken to the woman, but she seemed to think they'd shared something more...a whole lot more if the lascivious hand that had tried to snake its way inside his pants was any indication. 

When he'd tried to explain he wasn't interested, she'd become irate and he had only compounded his unknown error by failing to recall her name. For once, his photographic memory abandoned him, and his grasping suggestions had earned him a hard slap across the kisser. 

She'd fled in tears and righteous indignation to the safety of the woman's room, followed by half a dozen cohorts who paused only to give Mulder dagger-like glares. Scully, rounding the corner with a file in hand, had raised an eyebrow at the scene, but had gratefully heeded his warning not to say a word. 

Picking his way through the leftovers from his benefactor's meal, Mulder briefly considered whether it might have been poisoned, then decided she hadn't been that nuts. In point of fact, she was a halfway decent cook. Maybe he should have taken her up on her offer, it wasn't as if she was any crazier than some of the women he'd dated in his time. 

Licking his fingers clean, Mulder left the kitchen and headed for his bedroom, wanting to try out the waterbed again, feeling for all the world like a kid with a new toy. He opened the door and his childish grin was instantly stripped from his face. 

Lying in the middle of the bed, sprawled naked on the leopard skin like some virginal sacrifice, was Alex Krycek! Wondering if the day could get any more bizarre, Mulder went immediately for his gun. 

Krycek had an arm thrown over his eyes, his other plucking idly at one nipple, before moving lower to caress his muscled abdomen. "I've been waiting for you," he purred and Mulder blinked. 

He moved cautiously into the room, checking the corners, seeing nothing but Krycek's clothing piled neatly on a chair. "I'm armed," he warned, grimly, keeping his weapon trained on the assassin. 

If he'd meant to cause alarm, he was disappointed. Krycek simply allowed his fingers to move down over his crotch, to the swelling erection that Mulder had a hard time keeping his eyes from. "It won't do you any good," the naked man promised, huskily. "Kill me and your secret gets out." 

Secret? What secret? Mulder desperately racked his brain for an answer and came up with only two possible conclusions. Either Krycek was insane. Or he was. 

"Now, if you're not going to shoot me," Krycek paused to remove the arm from his eyes and gave Mulder a dark, smoldering smile, "then get that beautiful butt over here so I can fuck it." 

There was a third option, Mulder realized, dimly, as he crossed the floor. That they were both non compos mentis - out of their freaking minds! His eyes kept straying to the thickening cock nestled between Krycek's legs, unwillingly drawn there by the other man's so obvious arousal and finding it echoing within his own body. 

"Oh, now I get it." Krycek's voice drew him reluctantly away from his ruminations, back up to stare into the green-eyed gaze of his enemy. "You hate me, don't you? But you still want me, right? Ever since that night, you've tasted me and you want more. Well, don't let me stop you baby. Take all you want." 

He spread his legs a little wider and Mulder paused, wondering if shooting Krycek at this stage would constitute self-defense, saving what little part of his mind still left. But then, shooting Krycek might blow the mood and Mulder knew he didn't want that. Not yet. Not until he had some idea of the game Krycek was playing. 

At least that was what he told himself as he stood before the end of the bed, staring down at Krycek's body, spread so wantonly over the leopard skin comforter. And hell, if it was a game Krycek was playing, it was at least one they could indulge in together. 

He stripped off his jacket then kneeled slowly, going down onto all fours to crawl up between the assassin's parted legs. He licked his lips as he stared at Krycek's engorged erection, swollen and shiny and just begging to be tasted. 

"Don't get shy on me now," Krycek warned, eyes focused somewhere above. 

With a twist of his head, Mulder could see the other man was watching him in the ceiling mirror and suddenly it came to him. Krycek had done all this, just to seduce Mulder. The mirror, the waterbed, the champagne. The handcuffs? 

Mulder suppressed a chuckle. Who would have thought Alex Krycek had such a kink? Or knew so many of Mulder's. 

Telling himself that it was simply experimentation, Mulder dipped his head to taste the leaking fluid, finding it slightly unpleasant, but not too bad. It wasn't like he was going to have to drink the stuff, anyway. Krycek arched slightly, seeking more contact, and Mulder smiled, reveling in this unexpected power he was exerting over his enemy. Why, if he so chose, he might take a bite out of the rat bastard's dick. But first, maybe a second taste. 

Mulder eyed the cock hovering enticingly before his lips, then licked a second time, running from the base all the way to the tip and Krycek thrust upwards, helplessly, moaning. 

"Don't tease me, slut," the Consortium spy ground out. "Put my dick in your mouth before I shoot you." 

The hot words, the harsh threat, shot white lightning down Mulder's spine, zeroing in on his groin to set his own cock pulsing. Yeah, treat me like a whore, it urged, happily, lengthening inside its confines, while Mulder's mind indignantly demanded reparation for the outrage. 

Talks were quickly called, the matter debated, before the brain's objections were quashed by the sex drive's overwhelming majority. Well, it's outta my hands now, Mulder's mind told him, and, course of action now decided, he moved over Krycek and took the head of the younger man's cock into his mouth. Wrapping his lips around the quivering erection, he slid down an inch or two, before retreating, then tried again. 

"Oh yeah," Krycek enthused. "That's the way. That pretty mouth was just salivating for me, wasn't it." 

Since his mother had taught Mulder never to speak with his mouth full, he simply assumed Krycek's question was rhetorical and carried on sucking. He knew what felt good, knew how he had liked his balls teased and rolled when Phoebe had gone down on him. Knew what it had been like when she'd taken him in deep and hard. 

And all the while, he kept one eye on Krycek, watching the other man thrash beneath him; the small, thrusting movements of his hips, the way his legs felt like steel beneath Mulder's steadying hands, the whimpering sounds that escape the normally cold, cool assassin... 

"Enough!" 

Mulder ignored the gasping command and continue to suckle, squeezing Krycek's balls slightly harder now. If the bastard thought he was going to get away before Mulder was through with him... 

A hand latched into his hair and jerked his head up, eliciting a yelp of pain and surprise. Krycek shook him slightly, anger warring with arousal. 

"I said 'enough'," he hissed, shoving the other away. 

Caught off balance, Mulder sprawled backwards, bouncing once as the watery surface beneath him shifted and settled. Then Krycek was atop him, ravaging his mouth, a hot, slick tongue arrogantly forcing its way in to lick and taste. And Krycek's hands were all over him, ripping his shirt open, tearing cloth and sending buttons flying. It was like being mauled by an animal. 

But in a good way, Mulder thought, distantly, as a molten mouth captured his earlobe and nipped. He gasped aloud when Krycek pulled back to roughly jerk his pants down and off, and the younger man caressed the tented fabric of Mulder's boxers with something akin to satisfaction. 

"I knew it," Krycek whispered, fondling and stroking as he spoke. "I knew you wanted me, bitch. And now..." he savagely ripped the underwear away "now I'm going to fuck you." 

Mulder's cock leapt at that, even as Krycek grabbed him by the back of the neck and tossed him face down onto the leopard skin. His fingers clawed at the cover as Krycek pressed down onto his spine, lips moving just behind Mulder's ear as his hands roamed over the FBI Agent's ass. 

"This is such a fucking incredible body," the younger man breathed, almost in awe. "You don't know how lucky you are, to be able to touch this." He reached under and grasped Mulder's quivering cock, stroking hard and fast and Mulder moaned, helpless pumping into the assassin's warm hand. "Or this." 

Mulder cried out as a thick, wet finger was shoved roughly into his anus, the twin pumping movements of that finger and Krycek's hand on his cock almost too much to bear. 

"Please Alex," he whimpered, writhing helpless between the two sensations. 

"Oh yeah, you definitely want it," Krycek growled, triumphantly. 

Mulder heard a snap and twisted his neck to catch sight of a bottle in Krycek's hand, then felt a cold liquid squirted between the heat of his buttocks. Then Krycek's finger was back, sliding inwards before going a-hunting for Mulder's prostate. When he found it, Mulder bucked and yelled aloud, trying to hump himself into the frustratingly liquid surface below. Krycek grabbed his hip to hold him steady as he stabbed in a second finger, scissoring and stretching impatiently, ignoring Mulder's wordless pleading. 

When he pulled out, Mulder tensed, waiting for a penetration that wasn't forthcoming. Damn it, he swore. If he doesn't do it soon, I'm getting my gun. 

With that thought, Krycek roughly grabbed him and twisted him over, before the younger man sprawled out on his back. Krycek smiled and glanced up at the mirror, waiting for their eyes to meet there. 

"I wanna watch that beautiful body fuck itself on me," Krycek said, hoarsely, patting his hips. "I want to see that sweet ass riding my cock." 

Mulder almost tripped in his haste to sit astride the assassin, feeling Krycek's hands come to grasp around his waist, steadying and positioning. Grasping his own buttocks, Mulder carefully lowered himself onto the rampant prick below, feeling the muscle stretch taut, almost painfully so, until the head popped inside. 

Mulder moaned at the sensation and Krycek, sensing his acquiescence, shifted beneath him, pulling gently but firmly downwards until Mulder was impaled on his entire length. Biting his lower lip, Mulder distracted himself by studying Krycek's face below him, the younger man tense and sweating in a effort to hold off. His green eyes were no longer on Mulder, but focused on the ceiling above. 

Mulder craned his neck upwards, long enough to assure himself that Krycek was watching, then began to move. The heated, iron bar inside him lessened as he pushed upwards, then sank back down again until he felt Krycek's balls push up tight against the tender skin of his ass. 

"Fuck," Krycek spat, his hands clenching convulsively on Mulder's hips. 

That'll leave bruises, Mulder thought, vaguely, more interested in the sensation of Krycek's length inside him, filling him. And if he angled it just so... 

He jerked and stiffened with a shout as Krycek's cock slid over his prostate, sending tingling fire through his limbs, pooling in his balls to shoot to the very tip of his needy erection. Krycek refused to let up his hold on Mulder, so he grasped his own cock in his hand and began pumping it in counterpoint to their twinned movements. Straddling the assassin, Mulder began to ride him in earnest now, acclimatizing to the to solid presence within, wanting more, wanting Krycek to come up his ass. 

"Yeah, that's it slut," Krycek hissed, baring his teeth, fingers digging in to skin and muscle as he gripped Mulder all the tighter. "You can take it." 

And the hot little words inflamed Mulder all the more, throwing back his head to watch Krycek's face, Krycek tanned body beneath him, the urgent thrusting movements the younger man was now making in an attempt to come. 

"Come for me Alex," he urged, breathlessly, and their eyes met and locked in the mirror above. 

Krycek frowned through a rictus of pleasure, opening his mouth to speak, but whatever he might have said was lost as Mulder felt his own orgasm peak, washing over him, leaving him sweetly scorched in its wake. He erupted over his hand and Krycek's chest, crying out as he clamped down almost painfully on the thickness inside him, feeling muscles grip and ripple, urging the other man on. Krycek arched uncontrollably, thrusting deeply in the sudden tightness and convulsed. 

He shouted, "Mulder!" once, then took his own climax. 

* * *

Breathless and boneless, Alex slowly opened his eyes, blinking away the sweat to see Mulder's face, Mulder's eyes huge and luminescent, inches away from his own, and realized dimly that his cock was still lodged inside the FBI Agent's ass. 

Mulder had his hands planted either side of Alex's head, a small smile playing about his lips. "That was different," he commented, idly. 

Alex searched his eyes frantically, finding something there that had been lacking before. There was a sharp intelligence, an overwhelming personality present and he realized that this wasn't Morris, it was... 

"Mulder," he gasped, then cringed, waiting for the backlash, the threats, the beating. 

They didn't come. Instead, Mulder stroked his face tenderly, bending forward to kiss his lips, before carefully sliding up and off Alex, wincing as he did so. He then sprawled out beside Alex, laying a possessive arm over the other man's damp chest, toying lightly with the fine hairs. 

Alex attempted to gather his scattered wits. What had happened? Where was Morris? Why was Mulder back, and how? 

Oh, who the hell cares, his inner voice told him. It was the best sex of your life. Go with the flow. 

"Mulder," Alex tried again, looking into the mirror above to see Mulder's dark head nestled in the hollow of his shoulder. "I...I'm sorry...for what I said..." A slowing, sarcastic clapping erupted inside his head. Way to go asshole. 

"You know what, Alex?" Mulder murmured. "You sure know how sweet talk a guy." 

Alex snorted, amused despite himself. Then forced the humor away long enough to ask the burning question. "Why, Mulder? Why did you do it?" 

Mulder raised his head to look at Alex in all earnestness. "Because I wanted you. Because I've always wanted you and today had just been...crazy. And I thought it was time I got a little crazy too." 

"You've always been crazy," Alex retorted, daring to run his hand through his new lover's soft hair. 

"And also..." Mulder began, sleepily. 

"Yeah babe?" 

With a breathy sigh, Mulder put his head down onto Alex's chest. "Because you got me a waterbed." 

**THE END**

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